Windclan's Betrayal
by Wolfhickory
Summary: Death, sickness, starvation. Everything seems hopeless when Brokenstar drives the battle-torn Windclan out of their territory. See how they survive amidst the hardest conditions - without their precious grassland - before being taken back the the clans by Fireheart and Greystripe.
1. Prologue

Prologue – Tallstar's POV

We are Windclan. We are the descendants of the great cats, of the kings and queens of the forest: leopards, lions, tigers. We are named after one of the great founders of the clans. Named after air itself: the breath of life. And yet, we have been defeated.

I should have seen it coming. They have been encroaching on our territory for moons now, tearing off our homeland fiber by fiber. Their sent markers have crept further and further into our territory. They proudly parade along our borders, their eyes glinting maliciously. Brokenstar, you call yourself the soon-to-be ruler of the clans. You will be the end of the clans.

They came at midnight. The moon was just a sliver of a claw hanging in the sky, so our camp was cloaked in darkness. Shadowclan. I was sound asleep in the clearing at the time, along with my fellow clan mates. Where was the guard, you ask? Silenced. We found him lying in a pool of his own blood. A deep, crimson gash snaked up his throat. I am sorry Littlemouse, you will be remembered.

It all happened so fast. In a flurry of terror, mothers claimed their kits, apprentices woke up, and warriors towered defensively over their clan mates. Barkface even managed to grab a mouthful of herbs out of the medicine cat den without them noticing. We left obediently after that. My cats were injured, and matted with blood from previous fights. I couldn't bare to lose any more cats.

I looked back, perhaps I shouldn't have. Past where my deputy, Deadfoot was limping, I could see the invaders. Shadowclan was proudly claiming its new hunting ground. The invaders kicked dirt over the fresh kill pile. Brokenstar didn't want more land, he wanted us to wither into nothing. And now we will. Without our grasslands, we won't be able to hunt the meager, precious rabbits that sustained us. The cruel irony is, Shadowclan don't even eat rabbits.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter 1 - Runningkit's POV

The sun rose steadily in the sky. It shone like a thousand twinkling stars, as if all of Starclan was gathering around to watch this moment: the moment that I become an apprentice. An apprentice. I repeated that phrase in my mind, savoring the thought.

Tallstar leapt onto the nearby tree, his tail slicing the air like a ribbon. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the tree for a clan meeting!"

Cats crept out of the grass. The feline figures were appearing and disappearing like ripples on a pond. Their patterned pelts joined together in a symphony of swirling, stunning colour. Their claws pitter-pattered on the rough, cruel stone. This was it.

"I, Tallstar, leader of Windclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these kits. Webkit, step forward. You have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, you will be known as Webpaw."

Webkit padded proudly. His slick, cinder fur shone in the sunlight. His eyes glinted with a proud ambition. Two amber orbs in a grey, lifeless surroundings. He was simply soaking up the attention with stone-like confidence.

"Mudclaw, you are ready to take on an apprentice. I trust that you will pass on your cunning and strength of character onto your apprentice." Tallstar stopped, observing the cats below. Webkit, no, Webpaw padded over to Mudclaw. They touched noses. Mudclaw's tall stature towered over Webpaw's small, wiry frame. Tentatively, he walked to sit beside his striped mentor.

"Whitekit, step forward."

The white feline padded cautiously towards her leader. Halfway through her walk, Whitekit straightened up, in a feeble attempt to radiate confidence. The white of her pelt shone in a bright, sunlit brilliance.

"Whitekit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to receive your apprentice name."

She seemed more confident now. Her eyes swirled with pride.

By this time tomorrow, I will be a new cat. A new name, a new entity. Runningkit will be dead, so will Webkit, Whitekit and Rabbitkit. We will all be replaced with our newer, and arguably better identities. In a few moments, Runningkit will only be a fleeting memory, and Runningpaw will be brought to life.

I gazed up at the clouds. The thin white wisps danced in the ever blue, ever changing sky. Pictures faded in and out of existence: a rabbit, a cat, a dog. Perhaps the ancestors danced in the clouds as well as the stars, their ethereal bodies were surely made of the same dancing light. Stars and clouds. Perhaps, after today, that is where Runningkit and Rabbitkit will live, prancing in the sky: light cats chasing light rabbits.

A sharp jab threw me back into reality.

"You're up!" I turned. Mother was staring at me expectantly. She gave me a swift nudge, and gazed urgently in the tree where Tallstar perched.

"Runningkit, please step forward," he meowed, his voice inflected by a slight impatience.

A hot flush of embarrassment flowed through me. Trying to keep my head held high under the heavy weight of curious stares, I padded forward. The ground felt cold beneath my claws. I faced Tallstar. His gently commanding gaze rested upon my forehead, while the quietly supportive peers of my clan mates rested upon my flank. My skin prickled under the limelight.

Tallstar began again. "You are now six moons old, and it is time for you to become an apprentice."

This is it.

"From this day on, you will be known as Runningpaw. Barkface, this kit has chosen to follow in your footsteps, and the footsteps of countless medicine cats before you. I know that you pass your wisdom and skill onto this apprentice."

Time practically stopped. Nervously, I walked over to my new mentor. His face was old and ragged, but his eyes swam with the wisdom and secrets of the stars. We touched noses, I could feel his shallow, hot breath on my cheek.

"Webpaw! Whitepaw! Rabbitpaw! Runningpaw! Webpaw! Whitepaw! Rabbitpaw! Runningpaw!" The cheers of the clan resonated in clearing.

This is it. Runningkit is dead. Runningpaw, the medicine cat apprentice, has been born.


End file.
